Spring seems to have glossed over
Of seasons, I have lost track
Missing is the clichéd may shower
While for the beach, today I pack
Sand under my feet, I can bear
Scorching nights will appear
I make it my mission to care
For a sense of disarray brings fear
Itching for the pleasant tropics
Willing to meander the trudge
A backyard destination, nothing exotic
In peaceful serenity, to indulge
Bells and whistles don’t matter
If only I could turn off my thoughts
On the sand, I stay splattered
Sans the glamor and the gloss
Forever the workhorse, that’s me
Harried life, a price that I pay
I look forward to a day by the sea
On this calm and gorgeous day.
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